


The Boy in the Iceberg

by Penndragon27



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, but mainly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penndragon27/pseuds/Penndragon27
Summary: Aang and Zuko faced many adventures in their journey from enemies, to friends, to husbands. Now they face their last one together.





	The Boy in the Iceberg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just__Sparks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just__Sparks/gifts).



Aang was always smiling. Not in an overly cheerful, creepy way. Just that whenever Zuko looked at him, the Avatar’s eyes would light up and crinkle in joy. It made Zuko smile back. It made him feel loved.

 

He remembered their first kiss, a few years after the end of the war. They were in Zuko’s council chambers going over papers and Aang was frowning in concentration, his face sharper but still retaining a youthful charm. Zuko had licked his lips and before he could help himself, they were kissing. Aang was kissing him.

 

Barely a year later they were married. Zuko knew it wasn’t the “done” thing, but he didn’t care. He loved Aang and he didn’t care who knew it. Part of him wanted to shout it from the rooftops. The larger part of him wanted to hold Aang close to him and never leave his side.

 

Now, it had been over fifty years since the war ended. The lands were adapting to this new, united system. He and Aang had worked hard to build this kingdom and they were finally able to enjoy the fruits of their labour.

 

Aang was practicing his bending on their balcony, his movements slower, but no less precise. Zuko sat on a cushion, watching with a smile on his face. While he was an airbender at heart, Aang had put more focus on waterbending these past few years as the fluid motions were easier on his aching limbs.

 

It was odd that Aang seemed to be showing his age more than Zuko, who was older. But considering all they went through, with Aang’s numerous near-death experiences, he supposed he understood. He just wished he could take away his husband’s pain.

 

Aang’s head was still shaved, but he had grown in some stubble and Zuko remembered when he first saw it, back in their twenties. Aang had grown it out while he was away and when he came home Zuko took one look before dragging him off to their room to acquire beard burn in the most sensitive of places. It was a good night.

 

Now Aang’s beard was flecked with grey and Zuko would have made fun of him if not for his own head of long white hair. He would have loved to shave it off as well, but Aang adamantly refused and Zuko listened. He knew Aang liked playing with the ends of his hair while they lay curled together, late into the night.

 

He watched Aang perform those beautiful moves, now familiar to Zuko after years of watching the Avatar at work. It was a simple form, one of the first ones he’d learned. However, when Aang stepped out he suddenly pitched forward, falling to the ground.

 

Zuko ran to him, panic swelling in his chest. He turned his husband over and frowned at his pale face, sweaty brow, trembling lips.

 

“Aang?”

 

There was no answer. Aang’s breathing was shallow and Zuko heard a voice calling for the guards, barely registering it as his own. While the guards ran for a healer, Zuko held Aang’s head in his lap, stroking that beautiful, tired face.

 

***

Zuko paced outside the door to their room impatiently, struggling not to burst in and demand the healer tell him what was wrong. It was frustrating, being the Fire Lord and yet exiled from his own room, exiled from his husband. He knew the healer needed space to work, but he also wanted to be with Aang, to make sure he was okay.

 

Finally, the door creaked over and the healer walked out, supplies tucked into his arms. He frowned, clearly not wanting to be the one to tell the Fire Lord what happened.

 

“There’s nothing I can do,” he finally said. 

 

Zuko clenched his fists. “What do you mean?”

 

“He’s old, sire. There is no cure for time.”

 

Zuko couldn’t form a response and the healer took that as his leave. Unable to hold off anymore, Zuko ran into the room to find his husband laying on their bed, sleeping peacefully. 

 

Eyes stinging, Zuko lay down next to him, gently moving Aang’s arm to wrap around him. He felt a soft sleepiness overtake him and let himself feel safe with the love of his life.

 

***

When he woke up, Aang’s eyes were open, but glowing. So were his tattoos. Aang was in the spirit world.

 

Zuko watched him for a while, tracing soft patterns onto his shoulder, when Aang finally blinked back into consciousness, his eyes shining with tears.

 

“What is it?” Zuko’s voice was shaky. He didn’t like it.

 

“I spoke with Avatar Roku. Asked him what was happening.”

 

Zuko didn’t want to, but he found himself asking “And?”

 

“I’m old, Zuko.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “So am I.”

 

“Zuko, I’m ninety-six years older than you.”

 

The Fire Lord let out a breath. Right. The iceberg. The hundred years Aang spent asleep.

 

“So, it’s affecting you?”

 

Aang nodded. “Seems my laziness is finally catching up with me.” Zuko took his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the worn skin.

 

“You, Aang, are anything but lazy.”

 

Aang smiled and took a deep breath. “I’m one hundred and sixty-six years old.”

 

“You don’t look a day over seventy-five.”

 

Aang elbowed him in his side, but it was weak and tired. It was so different from the energetic Aang from barely a few days ago Zuko had to close his eyes for a moment.

 

“Did Avatar Roku tell you how to cure this?”

 

Aang was silent and Zuko opened his eyes to see the pained expression on his face.

 

“There is no cure, Zuko. It’s just… my time.”

 

“No,” the Fire Lord was torn between jumping away and holding Aang close to him. He settled for squeezing his hand tighter. “It can’t be. There are people older than you! We can find them, fix this, we can-”

 

“Zuko.”

 

He went silent, his heart feeling as though it were being torn to shreds. He felt hollow, empty. He felt helpless. Aang looked calm, peaceful, but Zuko knew him better than that. He could see the fear and worry hidden in those eyes.

 

“I don’t want you to go.”

 

Aang smiled, eyes shining, and Zuko embraced him, holding his head to his chest, wanting to stay there forever. He wanted to beg Aang not to leave him, to use his powers to create another iceberg and freeze them there so they could have a hundred more years together, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

 

***

The next few days were the worst of Zuko’s life. Worse than being exiled, worse than searching for the Avatar, worse even than when his mother went missing. Because there was no hope.

 

He wanted to send for every waterbender and healer in the land, but his advisors told him it would only add stress to Aang’s final days. He should make this time as joyful as possible. 

 

Zuko was mad and yelled at them, losing his temper like he hadn’t since he was a teenager, but he knew they were right. Time was a disease that would never be cured.

 

Aang spent most of his time in their bed resting. He had visits from Sokka and Katara and Suki, but he would tire easily and send them away. When he wasn’t needed in court, Zuko spent all his time with Aang, discussing politics and papers or just sitting in silence, trying to soak up every second they had left together.  And every time he left he would kiss his husband sweetly, never knowing when it would be the last time.

 

Zuko would curl into his side, feeling small and insignificant even with his crown on the table next to them. They would talk quietly and Zuko would say how much he loved him and how he wanted to take away his pain and how much Aang had changed Zuko for the better.

 

He couldn’t tell Aang what he was really thinking. How angry he was at the whole situation, how much he hated all of this. He couldn’t tell Aang how he didn’t know how he was going to go on after he was gone, how he could find a reason to smile when the only reason there had ever been was gone.

 

He didn’t say any of that because he didn’t want Aang to worry. He knew the end was drawing near and he wanted these days to be full of love and fond memories and sweet, childish kisses. He didn’t want to fight.

 

One day he arrived back to their room to find Aang there, standing tall and alert and Zuko was the one feeling weak, almost tripping in shock.

 

“You should be resting!”

 

Aang smiled his beautiful grin, no dimmer than when he was twelve, and held out a hand.

 

“Dance with me, Zuko.”

 

The Fire Lord wanted to refuse, to force Aang back into bed so he could rest, but this was his husband. The love of his life. He could never pass up the opportunity to dance with him.

 

He took his stance and they did the Dragon’s Dance, the movements as fluid as that day so many years ago when they met the firebending masters. Their fingers twitched with power and soon they were surrounded by a beautiful glowing light.

 

When the dance was over, Aang pulled Zuko close and they stood there, swaying to a music only they could here and whispering words that held no meaning to any but them.

 

The next morning, Zuko was cold. He knew, even before his eyes opened and he saw the wide, glassy look on his husband’s face.

 

The Avatar was dead.

  
  



End file.
